


Survival 101

by Ahro, HellieAce



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Anal Sex, Angst, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-12
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 00:30:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/484630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahro/pseuds/Ahro, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HellieAce/pseuds/HellieAce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Apocalyptic AU. It's been 200 years since the world fell apart in the wake of a devastating nuclear war between China and America. Civilization has hidden away from the scarred world in the nuclear bomb shelters known as Vaults. The doors of Vault 101 will never open, and no one will ever go outside, but for Alfred and Arthur, nothing is impossible. By Ahro and Hellie Ace. USUK</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scene 1 - Training Center

**Author's Note:**

> This is a RP between Ahro and Hellie Ace. This has been edited to read as a fanfic.
> 
> This is an AU set in the universe of Fallout 3 by Bethesda.
> 
> These are done on Tumblr RP Blogs, feel free to follow them for earlier updates compared to the fic:
> 
> Alfred (Played by Ahro): http://falloutalfred.tumblr.com  
> Arthur (Played by Hellie Ace): http://falloutarthur.tumblr.com
> 
> Terms:
> 
> Vault = Nuclear bomb shelters designed to house entire human populations of up to 1000. They are equipped with automatic day/night cycle lights, areas for food production, oxygen ventilation, water treatment, training facilities and apartment housing. Vaults are generally underground or contained within hills or mountains. Massive, intricate doors to the outside remain locked at all times and are only able to open via a special code accessed through a specific computer within the Vault. Very few people know these codes.
> 
> Auto-Doc = Automatic Doctor. Marvels of Fallout technology, auto-docs are small cylindrical rooms equipped with medical tools. The rooms can perform all the functions a regular human doctor can, but clinics are required to have a human doctor on staff 24/7 in case the machine malfunctions.
> 
> EML = Emergency Medical Lab. These are the clinics and hospitals of the Vaults. Trained doctors, nurses, lab techs and auto-docs work here with at least one doctor on staff 24/7.
> 
> V.A.T.S. = Vault-tech Assisted Targeting System. In the fallout games, the VATS system was incorporated into weapon targeting and allowed the player to choose shots more accurately. In the AU, the VATS system acts as the training facility's gun range operational system.
> 
> // = Italics

Nineteen years stuck inside an underground vault. Two hundred years since that vault had been closed to the outside world for civilian protection, and not one more year would pass if Alfred had anything to say about it.

"Ugh, I'm ready to get out of this place, Mattie!" Alfred whined as he kicked at one of the four rusty metal walls that closed off the small two-bedroom apartment. Which was just that, two beds and a table with a single partition between the two. It was like that for every family in Vault 101. Probably the same in other Vaults around the country, but for all Alfred knew their Vault could be the only one still left intact after the Great War. Or, the above world could be flourishing, while they were all still hidden away in fear of radiation and the mutants it spawned.

"You've been ready to get out since you were ten." Alfred's almost identical brother replied, rubbing at his forehead out of agitation.

Alfred's rampaging was a daily occurrence, one generally only sated after his regular target practice. It was still early, so Alfred's pent up need was being released on the already damaged walls of their home.

"Just settle down, Al."

Alfred ignored his brother and continued to land punches against the metal (he had asked for a punching bag but was denied, so this is what they would get instead.) His punching quickly stopped though when his 10mm pistol was thrust in front of his face.

"I really don't feel like apologizing to our neighbors again, so do you think you could at least head down and wait outside of the shooting range 'til it opens? You can punch on the walls out there all you want."

Alfred let his shoulders slump as he took his pistol from Matthew, eying the polished metal as it reflected the reds in the walls. It was never anything special, but it worked well, and he was a damn good shot. He would be a fine addition to Vault Security; however, he had better plans as to what his training would be used for.

"Thanks, Matt. I'll catch ya later." Grabbing up his holster and belt, he slung the worn leather across his chest and clipped it to his suit, the brown contrasting against the blue and yellow color scheme of the Vault 101 Jumpsuit that every civilian wore. No class. No style. Alfred hated the lack of individuality. Skills were the only thing that you could use to stand apart from the rest of the crowd.

Moving towards the door, he paused to look back at his brother. Giving him a confident wink, and that thousand-watt smile in reassurance.

"Don't worry, little bro. It'll be another lovely day in Vault 101!"

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Huffing a bored sigh, Arthur stared down at the small pistol laid out on the rickety desk before him. He ran his fingers over the worn metal of the barrel absently. It was such a simple looking thing on the outside, but Arthur knew it had complex guts: springs, chambers and hammers that all worked in unison to fire bullets. It was a simple concept, but an intricate deed.

Arthur nudged it across the table with his index finger, listening to the metal scrape obnoxiously. While it was a supposedly simple-complex device, Arthur probably could have taken it apart and put it back together, understood it, maybe even if liked it if he really wanted to. Not that he did, in fact, he'd much rather have tossed the thing away and gone to read over his medicine books. But there was always some rather ridiculous demand for a certain number of people in the Vault to understand guns and know how to use them. Arthur was, much to his dismay, in that category. He didn't know why he'd stupidly chosen to train with guns, but that was just life. Just another daily acceptance that was as normal as eating or sleeping.

He forced himself to set the gun aside and simply let his head fall to the desk. The resounding thump and pain that followed made him wince, but it wasn't enough to rouse him from getting up from his seat in his living quarters. Blinking, he stared at the little nicks and scratches in the metal surface for a while, thinking about nothing and everything all at once. It was early, but his mind was already awhirl with stray thoughts. Unsurprisingly, they wandered to his time-consuming job as a doctor.

His last shift in the Emergency Medical Lab had been long, boring and uneventful. A few scrapes and a child with a broken wrist had been the most exciting highlights. He thought about the way he'd been bored enough to deny the Auto-Doc making a proper splint and had done it himself. Most of the doctors would have laughed at that, but Arthur didn't exactly care. There weren't a lot of other EML staff, but for the most part, Arthur wasn't overly fond of any of them. He preferred the solitude of his books and watching the Auto-Doc operate.

Letting his thoughts stray off again, Arthur began to drum his fingers on the desk, absently killing time and avoiding thinking about the pistol that seemed to mock him from only a few inches away.

After what felt like hours, but was probably closer to a couple of minutes, Arthur raised his head from the desk, blearily glaring at the gun again.

No. He still preferred his medical books. But then a brief notion crossed his mind.

Sure he was positive he'd be on the medical staff the rest of his life and have no use for a gun, but maybe if he practiced with the boring thing a bit more, he would start to like it better? He'd pulled gun apart a few times, did target practice every now and again, but the weapon wasn't anything important in his life. It wasn't coveted like his medicine manuals or his lock picking kit. It was just there, simple-complex and utterly uninteresting. Guns were guns; they did one thing: kill. That was boring, and not how Arthur's strangely complex mind liked things. But maybe it could do more if he tried? He might begin to like the cold metal in his hands as much as he liked the feel of a syringe between his fingers.

Reaching out, he snagged it by the trigger guard and dragged it to him. Arthur eyed it for a moment, still wondering if a bit of target practice might be a good idea. Would it really hurt to shoot a few rounds just to see if he could grow to like the gun?

Finally rising from his seat, Arthur walked over to the small box he kept on the topmost section of his full bookshelf. Quickly dialing the lock code, he opened the box to reveal his standard issue shoulder holster and another small white box that contained ammunition. There was an empty space where the gun was meant to rest as well.

Strapping on the holster, Arthur grabbed his gun before shoving it into the slot, and then made for the door.

The brief walk to the gun range contained in the lower levels of the Vault was uneventful. Arthur passed a few people, mostly folks he knew or had treated before. Some offered a smile or a greeting, to which Arthur politely returned with a nod, but never moved to engage any of them.

When he arrived at the gun range, he pulled the 10mm pistol from its holster, and swiped the barrel clean with an old rag he'd brought with him. Satisfied with that, he stuffed the rag back into his pocket, pulled out the box of ammunition and began loading the clip. As he pushed the bullets down on the spring, he heard the sound of heavy footfalls approaching.

Arthur glanced up, wondering who else could possibly be at the gun range. This place wasn't exactly a hot spot or frequented by the average Vault dweller. The few times Arthur came down here, there was rarely anyone else present.

Now though, a tall blond was walking into the range, looking cocky and poised. Arthur tipped his head to the side as he watched the new blond with a sidelong look. He was vaguely familiar. The man's name was on the tip of his tongue as he continued to load the clip. What was it? Albert? Alvin? Aaron? Wait, wasn't it Alfred? Yes, that was it! Alfred…

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Ahh, yes, training, the highlight of his day, and the best opportunity he had at being destructive without having to pay for it.

The training room was one of the few larger facilities in the vault. Along with the shooting range, a large gym also encompassed much of it. Without knowing how long their Vault would be sealed off for, a gym to keep its occupants in shape without the luxury of a large expansive world was necessary. However, this early in the morning the training room was usually empty.

Usually.

"Woah- if it isn't stick-in-the-mud, Artie! Never thought I'd see you out here at such an hour. Who are you tryin' to impress?" Alfred sneered as he moved past the shorter blond to take up at an adjacent spot along the range. Pulling out his pistol to quickly give it a once over before lodging a clip into the handle. His hand fiddled with the controls on the V.A.T.S. to bring down the distant targets along the range 150 yards out.

"Stick-in-the-mud?" Arthur mused aloud. Who did this guy think he- oh, wait…. right. Now he remembered Alfred; he couldn't recall anything fond though. They'd only ever talked occasionally, usually during training. The conversations hadn't been anything important or deep or Arthur would have remembered them and Alfred more clearly.

He had to keep himself collected to avoid looking too flustered. Squaring his shoulders, Arthur set his hand on the V.A.T.S. controls to bring down his own targets.

"No one, Alfred. I'm simply here to keep from getting rusty. Working 12 hour shifts at the EML doesn't exactly give me a lot of free time to practice."

Arthur couldn't help but smirk darkly.

"Not that you'd understand the responsibilities of an actual profession though." The shorter chided with bitter amusement.

Alfred sent a quick glare over his shoulder at the older man's jibe.

It was true, he still had two years before he could officially join Vault Security. It was a painful realization, especially when his best friend, Gilbert, had already made it into their ranks within the past year. Thanks to that, Alfred had found his training sessions rather lonely, what with Gil working the over nights.

However, these feelings were not something he made known to anyone, so Alfred let his irritated expression show only fleetingly before moving to place his ear protection on and get his head into his training. While at the same time he brushed off the jab as if he hadn't heard Arthur through the muffling of the gear.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you over the sound of awesome coming from my skills." Alfred chided as he aimed up his sights on the distant human looking target that hung from the wall. Pulling the trigger with confidence, and enjoying the next millisecond response of the bullet cutting through the heart of the target.

With a 'woop', he looked over his shoulder at the other blond, flashing his famous smile in the process.

"I do hope all those hours you spend slaving away in that lab haven't hindered your marksmanship. Of course, even if you are a pathetic shot, you'd have someone awesome like me protecting you." He grinned as he brought his arms up again, placing another shot straight between the eyes of his target.

Arthur didn't get a chance to respond before Alfred's first shot. When the bullet punched through the target's chest, piercing the heart, Arthur gawked.

He felt his face flush with annoyance when the cocky blond shot him a blinding grin and boasted. So Alfred was a good shot, a great shot actually, but that didn't mean anything! Right? No, Arthur forcibly decided it wasn't jealously he was feeling, and that he could do just as well. Then came the second perfect shot, and Arthur wasn't entirely sure it wasn't jealousy this time.

No. He wasn't going to fall for this. He wouldn't stoop low enough to give Alfred the satisfaction of beating him.

The emerald-eyed blond took aim after putting on his ear protection, and squeezed the trigger.

And thoroughly embarrassed himself when the bullet barely grazed the target's shoulder. He felt his own shoulders slump pathetically, but he had the decency not to show it for too long on his visage. Arthur didn't dare look over at Alfred for fear of seeing that cocky, smug, triumphant grin he knew was probably be plastered all over the taller's face.

Instead, he took aim again and tried for a better shot with new resolve. The second bullet pierced through the target's belly. Arthur knew for a fact that if the target had been live, the shot would have torn open the lower half of the liver. It wasn't Alfred's dual kill shots, but the older took great satisfaction in knowing it would have been an excruciating wound, one that had the potential to cause a huge loss of blood and possibly death.

Arthur, encouraged by the second shot's improvement, went in for a third. The bullet clipped the same side of the torso as the second's had. Grimacing internally, Arthur lowered the gun, and glared death at Alfred. He'd been hoping he could have some witty comeback, but those three poor shots left him nothing to boast about.

"Protect me from what?" He snapped instead. "My ill and wounded patients?" With an airy scoff he took to trying to aim again. He'd get in a decent shot if he had to stand there all day. The shorter didn't want to admit he was a 'pathetic shot' as Alfred had so blatantly put it, but with the fourth shot missing completely, the brooding feeling of failure started to weigh on his jealous heart.

Damn it all! He'd never been good at this, but this was one worst streaks he'd ever had! Arthur blamed it on the irritating blond beside him and his own lack of recent practice.

"I think I can handle that on my own!" Arthur growled out after the fifth shot missed as well.

Alfred sat back on his heels as he watched the young doctor grow increasingly frustrated as shot after shot went far from a critical blow to his target, some missing entirely.

Running a hand through his hair, he returned his pistol to his holster, locking the safety as he did, and moved over to the disgruntled doc.

"Haha, at least you tried. Though, you'd have a better chance if you relaxed some." Smiling, he moved towards Arthur.

"Open up your stance some," Alfred knocked his boot against one of Arthur's own to make him widen his position, "and relax your arms a tad. You're too stiff. You look like you're afraid of the recoil." Alfred lifted his arms up to display how his elbows were not locked, but slightly bent while aiming.

"Give it a shot now." Alfred grinned as he stepped back some, swinging his arms up behind his head and relaxing his weight on one leg.

Arthur could only blink in confusion. Was Alfred being, dare he say, nice? It threw Arthur completely off, and left him standing there like an idiot. When Alfred nudged his foot, he limply followed along, still in shock. People weren't nice to Arthur. People demanded he fix their wounds. They bothered him about symptoms, recovery times and fees. Arthur helped other people, but other people weren't supposed to help Arthur. He was a doctor, after all.

He listened to Alfred's advice with the same dumb look on his face before finally realizing that the taller actually expected him to follow through, rather than stand and gawk. He mentally shook off the stunner, and tried to focus on what Alfred had instructed to do.

It seemed to work, too; Arthur let his muscles relax, raised the gun and just stopped thinking. It was a lot easier than struggling around the jealous outrage that had been whirling around in his mind only a moment before. He squeezed the trigger, beaming triumphantly when the bullet pierced into the right side of the target, slicing through where a lung would have been.

"Well, I'll be damned…" He mumbled, shaking his head before glancing over at Alfred. The easy smile on his face, entirely devoid of the anger that Arthur had been feeling earlier, made his chest ache with guilt. He felt like a real ass.

"I suppose I owe you an apology, hmm?" The doctor stared down at the space between his boots, avoiding looking back at Alfred.

"I was acting rather rude, wasn't I? I'm sorry about that." Arthur mumbled. Humility was so embarrassing, but Arthur still felt as though he owed it to the blue-eyed man beside him. Besides, was there really a point in making an enemy of the taller blond? He seemed, well, nice. Nice enough anyways, as far as the doctor could tell.

Alfred laughed,

"Nah, buddy, I just wanna make sure you don't miss and shoot me in the back or anythin'. I'm the last person you'd want in your clinic."

Alfred then leaned forward, whispering, "I don't know how you work around some of those nurses in there." He growled suggestively as he pulled his pistol from his holster and returned back to his previous position to take aim once more.

"Anyways, at least I won't have to worry about you in the marksmanship competition in a few weeks. Gilbert would be unbearable if he was shown up by some doctor." He laughed loudly as he took another few quick shots with the automatic, each one connecting around the middle of the target's chest.

So, sure, Alfred was nice. But he was cocky. Very cocky. Arthur noted, filing that away for later. If he had to deal with Alfred again, he'd remember not to flatter his ego too much.

Arthur cocked a brow, looking unimpressed at the suggestive comment. "The nurses aren't my type. At all." He returned, shrugging nonchalantly.

"But, you know, with the way you shoot, I wouldn't be worried at all," the doctor offered a rare bit of praise. "Just deflate that big head of yours, and you could win."

"Hey, hey! Thanks for the vote of confidence, doc! I'll make it a point to be your personal bodyguard if any of your patients get too randy with you." Alfred beamed proudly, winking as he loaded another clip into his pistol after the first one was spent.

Arthur gave a brief nod of thanks.

"Yes, well, I do hope it won't ever come to that. I'd rather not have to call Vault Security in on a sick patient. Then again, I'd hope a sick patient would never act, err, well, you know, rowdy with me." Just the odd idea of a randy patient made Arthur flush a little. He'd had a few winks and the occasional all to obvious brush before with some delirious patients, but it had never come to anything aggressive.

The emerald-eyed blond watched with concealed interest as Alfred continued to flaunt his marksmanship talent, still trying to remember who 'Gilbert' could be.

"Heh, I don't know doc," Alfred began as he rested his pistol on the counter to lean up against the small dividing wall for a stretch. "Those chems you guys give out can make people pretty delusional. Someone may think you're a pretty nurse." He laughed.

Arthur flushed, tugging awkwardly at his collar.

"Let's just hope such an adverse side-effect never happens. Oh, but wait, about Gilbert… Is he the new security agent?" Arthur queried suddenly, cocking his head and struggling to picture a face, but pale hair and an obnoxious attitude similar to Alfred's came to mind after a moment.

"Speaking of randy, yes, Gilbert is the new security agent, as well as my best buddy. Sadly, with his 'new title', he hasn't had much time for me. Not that I need him or anythin', just makes me want out of this hole even more." Alfred grumbled to himself, moving the distance of the target on the V.A.T.S out another hundred yards before firing away his frustration at the thing.

Arthur cocked a brow. Apparently Alfred wasn't too pleased with this.

"You don't exactly sound happy about your friend's promotion. It's an honor to have a noble profession like protecting people," Arthur noted sincerely, leaning his shoulder against the small dividing wall that had once stood between them. "But I wouldn't worry about it. You're not too far off from joining him, are you? What, another year maybe?"

"Oh sure, I'm happy for 'im." Alfred picked up his pistol absently along with a cloth that had seen much use with the excess of grease smudges through the white linen, and proceeded to wipe the barrel down. "It's just rude they stuck him on midnights. It's a dead shift what with curfew. His skills are gonna go to waste workin' at such a time. It's a disservice to him and VSec."

"I'm sure it's only a brief position. There are just older and more experienced security personnel that are likely more comfortable with the job than he. But if your fiend is as good as you say, then he shouldn't have any problem advancing up the ranks, should he?" The doctor folded his arms before his chest, shrugging casually.

Alfred sighed,

"Sure, he'll work up the ranks, but how long will it take?"

Alfred then rested his freshly cleaned pistol back on the counter and then reached below it to pull out a 10mm SMG that had previously been concealed. "The way they run shit around this place is so damn backwards. It's like they don't want competent personal. Like they're hidin' somethin'." After loading a clip into the sub-machine gun, Alfred shouldered the weapon and began to fire off small bursts down the range into the mid section of his target. Quickly riddling the target with holes.

Arthur furrowed his thick brows, wondering just how frustrated Alfred might really be judging by the ferocious way he was unloading into that target. Was he really so fed up with Vault life? But what other life was there, besides going to the surface to die? There was nothing up there but lethal radiation and feral mutants.

But then Alfred's earlier quip about getting out suddenly came to full attention in the forefront of the doctor's mind, clicking together and making sense.

"Wait a moment! What do you mean you want out? Out where? To the surface? Have you got a death wish!"

"Does it look like a few mutant house pets would come near me?" Alfred glanced over at him, and pulled the trigger again to illustrate his sincerity.

"Mutant house pets…" Arthur smirked, head bowed, avoiding Alfred's eyes. "No, I'm afraid I couldn't picture you being bested by an isotopic cat. But," Arthur sighed quietly, observing the metal tiles between his feet. "Who's to say the surface world isn't Hell? There could be monsters clawing at the doors right now. Is it really worth it? To risk life and limb just for the small chance you could find some new world up there? To be torn apart by savage beasts or choke on your own polluted blood when the radiation gets you, just to chase a child's dream?"

"We've got chems for radiation, plus suits to help ward it off. Besides all of that, how do we not know it isn't safe up there by now? We could be the last Vault still sealed while the surface is bustling in a new age." Alfred pulled the trigger again, clicking the gun empty before finally turning to face the doc now. "Don't ya wanna see what's out there? A land with no walls, and an endless sky above our heads. Just like in the photos of our textbooks we were shown while growin' up. Ever since I saw that blue sky…" Alfred paused as he slumped back against the wall again, a hand going up to run through his hair as he let out a sigh. "I've done nothin' but dream of bein' under it. I've spent my whole life in here preparing for what could be out there in the hopes that I could survive by myself, just for the freedom of livin' under that sky." He sighed again, "The Vaults weren't meant to stay closed forever. It's 'bout time we start seein' what's out there for ourselves."

Arthur thoughtfully listened to Alfred, strangely not minding when the blue-eyed blond leaned on the wall as well, their shoulders nearly brushing.

As he heard the hopeful, longing tone of Alfred's voice while he spoke of the grand world above and bright skies, Arthur felt a strange pang in his chest. It was something about the taller's voice, something about the foolish dream, something about the way that it was so lovely and entirely pointless.

Arthur hunched his shoulders a little; he was a bit embarrassed to be having such a strangely intimate conversation with someone he didn't know that entirely well. Arthur didn't do personal, not really. He had a few friends on the medical staff, but most of them were as closed and reserved as he. Alfred was like a shiny new book. All freshly printed words, pages turning crisply for Arthur as he talked about longing for an endless blue sky. It was entirely strange and new and fascinating.

"Of course I dreamed of the pictures. You don't think as I child I didn't want to know what the warmth of sunlight felt like? Or see the clouds? Of course I did, everyone does. But that was when I was a child, Alfred. We're adults now." Arthur murmured, a drop of nostalgic sadness in his voice.

Feeling like an old man for trying to quell those strange, childish dreams, Arthur tried offering a tiny smile to consul the taller. He nudged Alfred's arm with his elbow, still avoiding the bright blues.

"But what do I know? I'm just a doctor." The emerald-eyed doctor shrugged again. "Maybe the doors will open one day, and maybe you're right. It would be a nice surprise to be greeted by blue skies, wouldn't it?"

Alfred pushed off from the wall as he listened to Arthur's own reminiscing of blue skies and dreams, but his disregard of striving for it saddened Alfred.

"Well… what I think isn't really relevant to you. Sure you've got plenty of problems keepin' this place in line and everyone healthy." Alfred shook his head as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Arthur couldn't help it when his shoulders slumped. Alfred had such a strange mind; Arthur had probably just upset him with his common rationale.

"That's not true, what you think does matter to me." Arthur said without even thinking about it. He bit his lip, unable to call the words back no matter how much he wanted to. Why the hell had he just said that? You didn't say things like that to someone you'd just started talking to. Great, now on top of offending him, Alfred probably thought he was weird too.

/You really need to work on your social skills, Kirkland. This is almost painful… Arthur chided himself before sighing his frustration aloud./

"My thoughts matter…" Alfred said quietly under his breath, his hand going up to scratch at the back of his head.

When Arthur heard him, he attempted to atone for his strange words.

"I mean, everyone's thoughts and opinions matter in some way, right?" He offered, watching Alfred move away. "It's just, we have responsibilities, and a duty to our lives here. Not out there." Arthur returned, nibbling at his bottom lip.

"Duty to our lives." Alfred repeated under his breath, tsking as he faced away from the doctor until he looked briefly over his shoulder at him. "So, they have you just as much brainwashed as the rest of 'em."

It was one thing Alfred had talked to Gil about for years. Conspiracies that the leaders of Vault 101 knew what was on the surface, yet enjoyed their power so much that they built up lies to keep everyone under their thumb. It was one of the reasons why Alfred believed they put Gilbert on the midnight shift. Keeping him away from Alfred. Away from the possibility of bringing about a revolt.

Now, the only person Alfred could rely on for anything was his younger brother. He was quiet though. Kept out of trouble. Alfred needed more people by his side to fight back against their power hungry leaders, but fear kept that from happening… and he hated it.

Unable to stop himself, a sneer curled Arthur's lips back when he heard Alfred practically call him just another sheep in the flock.

"I'm not brainwashed! You don't know me! Besides, what 'brainwashed' fool would sit here and listen to your ridiculous notions, huh? Maybe I just like it here, ever consider that? You of all people ought to know that your kind of radical ideas have no place here. Anyone else would have called you crazy or reported you."Arthur squared his shoulders, his viridian eyes narrowed. "I haven't done either of those things now have I?"

The sudden outburst from behind him at Alfred's comment wasn't entirely unexpected, even as Arthur stated that he hadn't exactly given Alfred reason to believe the doctor was completely following along blindly. Alfred had just developed blinders over the years that no one thought for themselves anymore. Too many people he had trusted turned their back on him.

"You're right, you didn't give me much of a reason to assume you were a lemming like the rest of the place seems to be. I guess," Alfred paused, turning around and rubbing at the back of his neck. "You have my thanks then." He stopped rubbing at his neck and shoved his hands into his pockets, "but that doesn't mean your way of thinking couldn't possibly change." He started as he rested his weight back on his heels as he looked down his nose at the doctor. "You say you felt the same about those pictures in those books, but that dreams were just foolish children's ideas. Could you at all be persuaded in opening yourself back up to such ideas?"

Alfred knew it was a long shot. He barely even knew the doctor, and they had only just started talking. If there was even a lick of a chance that, given some time and egging on, Arthur might open up to Alfred's plans. Perhaps even take over where Gilbert left off.

"You're thanking me?" Arthur blinked in surprise. Why in the world would Alfred thank him? He'd just yelled at him! But somewhere in Arthur's heart, he could actually understand why, sympathize with such a freethinker, as odd as it was. Alfred seemed so sincere, as if he really were thankful for the simple fact that Arthur hadn't judged him for his outlandish dreams.

The doctor shifted uncomfortably, wringing his hands out of nervous habit.

"I," Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat, wondering how the conversation had suddenly flipped on him. His collar felt hot, and Arthur was sure his face was bright red. "I don't honestly know…"

Opening up… the words sounded so foreign, like Alfred was speaking a whole other language Arthur's heart had long forgotten. It made a strange emotion well up in his chest, something he didn't like, and tried to force down.

"But why?" The emerald-eyed doctor wondered earnestly, finally looking up to meet Alfred's eyes, his own wide with earnest curiosity. "I don't understand why you're so fixated on this. And why me? I'm not like you, Alfred… we're so," He paused. Did he even know what Alfred was like? Could he really compare himself to the ambitious man before him? Probably not, but Arthur had to resign himself. This was just too strange, and intimate, and utterly confusing for the doctor. "We're different, Alfred. At least, I think we are. I don't know if I could ever dream like you do."

A sigh escaped Alfred as he felt himself beginning to pace some. Gilbert had always told him he would get nowhere fast spouting off about the sky and wide-open plains. It was about the only thing Gilbert said that made sense, but it only took a few days for Alfred to be separated from the albino before his thoughts stewed and boiled over.

Matthew could only sustain Alfred's raving for so long before he ran to hide amongst his ferns and herbs in the Greenhouse, where Alfred's blasphemous thinking would stay away. After they had lost their parents when they were young, Matthew had clung to Alfred like a lifeline, and his talk of going out onto the surface, after being repeatedly drilled of its dangers, worried the younger twin that he would lose Alfred too.

Heaving another sigh, Alfred made up his mind, and turned back around to face the doctor with a wide grin now returning to its usual place.

/I still can't trust these people./

"Haha, you're right, doc! They're just silly dreams. I need to get my head out of those books and focus on what's important, and that's protectin' fine folks like yourself round the vault." He quickly pushed his ear protection back up from where it had rested around his neck before lodging a clip into his pistol once more, taking aim on the distant target as if their previous conversation was far from a big deal. Just something to shrug ones shoulders at and go about business as usual.

Arthur had watched the taller pace with a blank expression. His bright emerald gaze flickered across the man's face, vaguely wondering just what he could be thinking about with such a pensive expression.

When Alfred suddenly whirled around to face him, Arthur's eyes went wide, expecting some other wild plea for freedom and blue skies or something else as equally unattainable.

Instead, and for once, Alfred had actually made sense. Arthur couldn't help but blink in confusion.

"Y-you really mean that?" Arthur let a soft smile spread across his lips. "Thank God! I'm glad I could get you to listen to a voice of reason. I mean, really, did you honestly believe you could survive the outside?" A light laugh bubbled up from his chest. "I'm just glad you came to your senses. I'd hate to see the Overseer lock you up for such inane ideas!" He let his eyes slip to half-mast as he watched Alfred continue to practice, firing away at target after target.

Honestly, the doctor was rather proud of himself for being able to talk an ambitious fellow like Alfred down from such childish ideas. His last words hadn't been a lie. Despite only having talked with Alfred minimally, he bore no ill will against him, and in fact, actually hadn't minded the conversation. Even if it had been ridiculously charged and loaded, something Arthur generally avoided at all costs.

The emerald-eyed man watched Alfred until he finally swept his gaze away and towards the clock on the far wall.

"Oh hell!" He exclaimed, pushing himself off the dividing wall to gather his things. Grabbing his gun, he flipped the safety switch to on, and then jammed the pistol back into his shoulder holster. The little white box of ammunition he tucked into the munitions pouch on the opposite side.

"I didn't even bring my coat or cards!" Arthur grumbled under his breath as he closed the clasp over the gun before rushing to the facility doors. He turned just before exiting, calling to Alfred:

"My apologies for having to cut this short, but I have to be to work! I suppose I'll see you again later…" The doctor shrugged before offering a little parting wave, then vanished beyond the doors.

\- End Scene -


	2. Scene 2 - Mess Hall

Regardless of how much his stomach was protesting for food, Alfred forced himself away from the mess hall to seek out his brother. His mind was currently outweighing his stomach in importance for once, and Alfred figured if he stopped he would lose his momentum towards addressing the subject at hand.

His only challenge, however, faced him at the door the minute he rounded the corner.

“You can’t come in here, sir,” came the crisp voice of the security officer standing watch over the greenhouse.

“Come on, Michelle, I just need to talk to my lil’ bro.”

“No, sir, you are not permitted inside the greenhouse.”

“And what’s up with the ‘sir’, Chelly, babe? I thought we had somethin’?” Alfred winked.

“I was issued a taser,” was her short warning.

“Okay, okay,” Alfred held his hands up in defense, taking a step back from the woman. “Could you please let Mattie know I need to talk to him outside?” He asked as politely as he could.

The woman stared Alfred down, waiting a moment before calling over her shoulder for Matthew without leaving her sentinel position at the door.

The instant Alfred caught sight of that familiar curl, he jumped up and waved his arm hoping to grab his brother’s attention. “Yo, Mattie!”

“The hell did you do now, Alfred?” Before Matthew could walk out of the greenhouse, he was stopped by Michelle’s hand around his arm.

“Please, Matthew, keep your brother away from here. Next time, there won’t be a warning.” She shot daggers at Alfred before walking away. The automatic glass doors closed behind Matthew as he stepped forward. Matthew let out a sigh.

“You really shouldn’t antagonize her.”

“It’s not my fault she hasn’t gotten over those damn specimens. That table was weak anyways.” Alfred shrugged, slinging his arms up and crossing them behind his head.

“Those were valuable species that we were trying to re-grow. They had been fermenting for three months before you sat your fat ass on the table and it flipped.”

Alfred shrugged again.

Matthew just shook his head with yet another sigh.

“What is it that you wanted, Alfred?”

Alfred jolted back to reality and smacked his fist into his palm.

“Right! So, I ran into that Kirkland guy-”

“Dr. Kirkland, yes?” Matthew corrected.

“Oh, you know him?”

Matthew stopped and simply stared at Alfred, his expression void of amusement.

“Alright, jeez, okay, so I was down at the range, yeah you knew that, anyways, that doc was there practicing his own shot, and we got to talkin’.”

Matthew raised his eyebrows as Alfred dawdled towards his point.

“Right, well,” Alfred stopped a moment to look around, making sure they were out of range of prying ears. “I mentioned my ideas about the surface.”

Matthew blew out a sigh of exasperation.

“Al, you can’t just bring that up to people you barely know. You’ll be locked up.”

“I know, Matt, but he was different. He actually listened. He wasn’t entirely open-minded but he listened. He even shared some of the same ideals.” He paused as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I think-” he paused again, “I think he could take over Gil’s spot.”

“Alfred-”

“Hear me out! Maybe, if I can get closer to this guy he would work with us.”

Matthew shook his head.

“You know my feelings on the situation. I won’t say anything, but I’m not interested in leaving either. This was yours and Gilbert’s idea, but I’m your brother; I won’t ever hold you back, and I’ll help you in whatever way I can.” He paused to rub at his temple, “just be careful. I know the doctor isn’t one of the fanatics, but he is also looking out for the health of the vault’s citizens. If you somehow manage to harm-“

“I know, Matt. I know. I would never intend on harming anyone, especially with you staying here. I’d give up this whole thing if my only choice was between the surface and the health of the people here.” He stopped to rest his hands on his brother’s shoulders. “I know he got out, Matt. He may be dead, but I’ll find out how he made it and where he went off to.”

“Alfred-”

“I’m serious, Matt. You know the Overseer’s reasoning was suspicious. We believed it ‘cause we were kids, but,” he paused to look down, his grip tightening on his brother’s shoulders, “but, we know more now. You even said it yourself.”

Matthew sighed as he averted his gaze. His thoughts mulling over everything they had been fed by the Overseer and the higher ups. They were always trying to keep the brothers in-line over the years. After Alfred noticed trends amongst the populace, Matthew began to believe in his brother’s outrageous notions.

“Alright, Al, but remember we don’t know Dr. Kirkland that well. Be cautious around him. He could very well have ties with the Overseer too, since he is a powerful figure here. Say the wrong thing and you’ll wind up in a cell.”

“You got it, Mattie,” Alfred grinned. “I’ll be careful.” As he stepped back, Alfred’s stomach suddenly reminded him exactly what he had ran past on his way to see his brother.

Matthew laughed.

“You actually skipped mess?”

“Postponed it, actually. Later, bro!” Alfred then turned quickly and ran back to the mess hall, needing to quell his hunger or he wouldn’t be very successful in his persuasions with the good doctor.

~~~~~

Arthur burst into his apartment with a panicky gasp. Scrambling over the threshold, he dashed for where he always hung his coat and kept his security clearance cards. He was out the door again a moment later, struggling to put his coat on and lock the door at the same time. Once he managed it though, and the coat was securely around his shoulders, Arthur pelted for the EML. The doctor shoved past anyone who had the misfortune of being in his way.

Arriving out of breath and perspiring raised a few eyebrows from the rest of the staff. Arthur blushed, swallowing hard once he’d caught his breath and the tempo of his heart had ceased to race.

“Uh, my apologies. I forgot to watch the time.” Arthur excused himself before anyone could ask any questions about the usually punctual doctor’s strange lapse in remembrance. Stuffing his hands in his coat pockets, Arthur made his way to his little office.

When he opened the door, he immediately flushed with shame. Sitting on his deck with an annoyed scowl, tapping his foot, was the doctor scheduled before him.

“I’m glad you decided to finally show up, Dr. Kirkland.”

“Oh, Dr. Mal, I am so sorry,” Arthur started, avoiding the other doctor’s eyes. “I was down at the training center, and practicing shooting, and this young security trainee was there, and he was quite nice, and was helping me shoot and-“

“Dr. Kirkland, you’re babbling.” Dr. Mal sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I just finished a twelve-hour shift plus your absentee. I just want to go home and sleep, so don’t even worry about an excuse.” Rising off Arthur’s desk, the other doctor brushed past Arthur, looking exhausted.

“Try not to let it happen again, alright?”

“Right. Of course, Dr. Mal.” Arthur groaned after the door to his office slammed shut behind him. Running his fingers through his hair, the emerald-eyed doctor flopped down ungracefully into the chair behind his broad desk.

“Damn you for making me late, Jones,” Arthur grumbled, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. As he observed the tile patterns in the metal roof, his mind wandered back to the other blond and his outlandish ideals. The bright-eyed look he’d given Arthur when talking about the open skies, his mirthful exuberance, his ridiculous persistence… it was actually rather endearing, Arthur thought, nodding to himself. Wait, he wasn’t supposed to be thinking _that!_ He didn’t like Alfred! He barely knew him! Though he did have a handsome face, thick, broad shoulders, oh and the way his jumper hugged his toned chest. The emerald-eyed man suddenly shivered, and felt his face heat with a blush.

Arthur howled out his embarrassing confusion with a frustrated groan.

Damn it, he needed to get his mind off Alfred and into medicine and actually doing his job. Just as he was about to reach for his daily log his stomach rumbling snapped him to attention. When was the last time he’d eaten? Last night’s shift? No, it was before that, wasn’t it?

_Which means I’m forgetting meals again_ … Arthur mentally scolded himself. The doctor sometimes focused too much when it came to his work and studies. He’d accidentally gone a day or more without eating when he got wrapped up in a new medical book or some strange symptoms appeared in a patient . And it wasn’t unusual for one of the nurses to forcibly shove him out of the EML to go get something to eat. Today, Arthur decided to spare the staff the trouble of bodily removing him from his office, and rose to his feet.

_I’ll just grab something quick from the mess hall, and then get straight back to work._ Arthur resolved, heading for the door. He briefly informed one of the nurses that he would be right back before heading out.

Unfortunately, arriving at the mess hall did nothing to alleviate the thoughts of the blue-eyed blond from the training facility.

Alfred was here. He sat off to the side at a narrow table, eating his meal, but still well away from the doctor.

“Why?” Arthur moaned under his breath, walking along the inside perimeter in hopes of avoiding Alfred. He couldn’t deal with the taller blond right now, lest his thoughts turn lewd and curious. He was here for a quick meal, to clear his head and then dive back into his work. Not engage with the man plaguing his mind with blue skies and eyes of the same vast color.

He’d suddenly lost all his appetite as well, or what little he actually had. The younger left a flighty nervousness whirling around in his gut. And Arthur wasn’t entirely sure why. However, the thoughts were quickly arrested, as a small commotion seemed to be heating up in the line. A gruff looking man was leaning over the counter, sneering angrily. From his place beside the wall, the emerald-eyed man was just within hearing range.

“I’m sorry sir, but we are on rations for the rest of the season. There is nothing I can do.” The mess hall server appeared to be trying to calm the rough man.

A loud slam from the counter along the food line seemed to pull the young trainee’s attention away from his meager meal. Arthur noticed him appear to tense up, as if he were ready to spring at any moment. Those blue eyes picked out a single man who had begun to raise his voice to the innocent kitchen worker.

It always got like this this time of year. The slaughterhouse had reached its limit, and animals needed to be born and raised before more could be used for food. It was a constant cycle, and off-season always saw major agitation amongst the Vault citizens.

“This is bullshit! I swear these damn ‘seasons’ are getting longer every year! What the fuck is the Overseer doing with all the food!” The aggressive man shouted.

It was also a reason to have security.

Alfred quickly stood from his seat, watching the man as he continued to flail his arms about in anger. Alfred could see the poor woman growing increasingly worried, but it wasn’t until the man had grabbed up a knife that Alfred was on him in seconds.

“How about I carve up my own meat!” It was the last thing out of his mouth. He raised the knife, trying to threaten the woman, but was dragged to the ground, and immediately disarmed. Alfred wrestled him to the floor, planting his knee firmly in his back. He strung the man’s arms backwards in a vice-like hold, and buried the attacker’s face into the burnt metal tiles.

Arthur watched the quick altercation from the wall. He had his shoulder blades pressed firmly against it, arms folded before his chest. He’d smirked when Alfred had so brazenly approached the belligerent, even laughed when he’d easily taken him down. The younger was quite quick. That take down had to be a record, and against an armed attacker as well.

The older observed every skilled movement, examining and waiting to see how Alfred would handle the actual arrest. He wasn’t a full officer yet, which left Arthur curious. But even from the distance he could clearly hear Alfred’s acting as he was trained.

“Vault Security, you are under arrest.” Alfred said.

The pinned man only laughed, turning his head to sneer at the trainee

“If it isn’t the greeny! They still haven’t let you on the force, kid?”

A swift elbow to the face had the man spitting blood as he continued to struggle under Alfred.

“He just struck me! Anyone see that? I need to be brought to the medlab!”

Alfred glared, but Arthur only smirked again. He’d very likely be dealing with that back at EML later.

“You’ll go to the medlab because you slipped and busted your nose when you threatened that woman’s life.” He then grabbed the man angrily by the jaw to turn his gaze up to him again, “and then you can spend a year in a cell, with even less food than you would have gotten here.”

Just as he shoved the man back against the floor, he heard the familiar sound of jingling cuffs and heavy boots running up towards him.

“Jones, what’s this here now?”

A soft stutter suddenly slipped between the approaching vault security officers and Alfred as the victim made to speak up,

“H-he threatened me with a knife. Officer Jones then jumped in to save me.” She said, still shaken and pointing at the man being pinned to the ground.

Alfred smiled as he rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand.

“I’m no officer yet, ma’am. Just doing what I’m trained to do.”

The woman blushed.

“Well you should be an officer. You were wonderful!”

Alfred only laughed some more before one of the security officers stepped down to cuff the struggling man, allowing Alfred to get to his feet.

“Good work, Jones,” one of the officers addressed him, as the other began to walk the other man out. “I’ll put in a good word for ya at HQ.”

Alfred grinned, “thanks, man! I could use some good rep with the chief.”

A small crowd started forming once Vault Security arrived and arrested the man, blocking Arthur’s view. The emerald-eyed doctor dismissed it, thinking nothing more about Alfred’s rash, impulsive move, even if it was rather heroic and gave Arthur a good laugh. The blue-eyed man had certainly impressed Arthur, but still lacking an appetite the doctor moved to leave the mess hall.

No one saw it coming.

It wasn’t until Alfred was down on one knee, holding his shoulder, and trying to reach for the knife that now protruded from his back that the officer he was talking with saw Alfred’s assailant and started after him. The disgruntled, faceless assailant was fleeing through the shocked crowd.

“GAH! FUCK!” Alfred’s head swam at the pain, the blade having been driven deep just below his shoulder blade.

The automatic doors were just opening for the doctor, and he was about to cross the threshold without a second thought. But then he heard Alfred cry out in pain.

It made his heart plummet into the pit of his stomach and the blood in his veins ran cold as ice. Without a moment of hesitation, or even a rational thought, Arthur pivoted on his heel, running to the crowd. Arthur had heard people scream in pain, half the time he was the one doing it with injections and stitching, but this was different. This was something that kept ringing in his ears as he shoved through the crowd, the reverberations in his mind rattling painfully in his head as he burst through the throng of people and saw Alfred.

The trainee was on his knees now, shouting all around. Alfred assumed the man who attacked him was being chased down. He vaguely felt people trying to reach him, but he brushed them away as he found his way to his feet, the warmth of his blood staining his jumpsuit faster with his exertion.

An agonizing knot formed in Arthur’s stomach seeing the young trainee slumping against the wall, the handle of the knife protruding from his back. Already his jumpsuit was darkened from the blood pouring out of the terrible wound. Arthur kept trying to push to the front, jerking away from the other security officers as they tried to grab for him. One snagged his shoulder, pulling him back.

“That’s Dr. Kirkland!” A voice of reason echoed above the clamor. Arthur barely heard him, but the security officers released his shoulders, allowing the emerald-eyed doctor to approach the wounded blond.

“Alfred,” Arthur addressed calmly, catching his attention so as not to startle the blue-eyed man when he moved to his side. “You idiot…” he huffed, swatting Alfred’s hand away from the knife.

“Don’t touch. You’ll make it worse trying to rip it out like that.” Even if the words should have had a bit of a harsh bite, Arthur’s tone was even and soothing. While Alfred didn’t look panicked, that could change in the blink of an eye. The security trainee staying calm would make this a much smoother process. Arthur’s mind had to stay focused on examining Alfred, working out the best way to go about this. It was hard to see exactly the damage the knife had done through Alfred’s jumper, but judging by how little of the actual blade was showing, Arthur could only guess that it was a terribly deep, excruciating wound.

“I’m fine,” Alfred assured, and leaned more against the wall as he continued to push help away, “I need to help get that man.”

Arthur had to swat Alfred’s hand away when the younger insisted upon going after his assailant. He carefully peeled back some of the fabric to get a better look before having to reprimand Alfred yet again. When Alfred tried at it once more Arthur’s hand shot out, snagging the blue-eyed man’s wrist in a firm vice that strengthened the resolve in his earlier words.

Alfred probably could have broken out of his grip without a problem, but Arthur quickly released him instead. He’d dealt with plenty of uncooperative patients before, and if the wounded man wanted to be stubborn, Arthur wasn’t going to stand for it. Making sure it was apparent in the sharp glare of his emerald eyes, the doctor spoke again, voice low and level.

“Stop that. You did your job, now let me do mine. And if you insist upon trying to stop me, I swear I will let you die on the mess hall floor!”

After hearing the rebuttal as Alfred tried to remove himself from the wall, the trainee gave in and he ceased fighting. The doctor was more than grateful, as he felt his heartbeat grow unsteady, worrying over the blue-eyed man.

“I don’t want to remove the knife here. It’s too deep. You’ll bleed out. I’m going to get you back to the EML and patch you up there. If you’re uncooperative, this won’t end well, understand?” Not waiting for a reply, Arthur tucked against Alfred’s side, hooking the younger’s arm around his neck.

As Alfred felt himself hoisted more firmly against the man he tried to insist upon his health.

“You don’t need to do this. I’ll be fine.”

His words seemed to fall on deaf ears though as more shouts were made. He felt a growing irritation at being ignored, but something kept him from wanting to pull away from the man holding him up.

Glancing over to the one of the security officers, Arthur clicked his tongue to grab his attention. He was going to hear none of Alfred’s ridiculous assurances.

“I need you to call the EML. Tell them to prep a room for a potentially fatal stabbing. Make sure they have bags of-“ Arthur paused, looking back to Alfred. He swallowed hard before drawing down the zipper on the chest of Alfred’s jumpsuit to pull the ball chain his dog tags were attached to out. Alfred only vaguely heard the sound of the zipper being pulled down, exposing just enough skin to feel the cool air hit him.

“W-what are you?” He made to brush the hand away, but his breathing hitched suddenly as cool fingers lightly grazed his flushed skin. The metal of his dog tags being pulled gently from under his suit sent an unexpected chill through Alfred.

Quickly reading over the tags, Arthur ignored Alfred’s protest and he resolved _not_ to think about the heat that had washed over his hand when he brushed Alfred’s protruding collar. He could secretly marvel at that later when Alfred didn’t have a knife sticking out of his back.

“Tell them to have type O blood ready. And do it quickly!” The emerald-eyed doctor barked before moving Alfred to him, bracing as he let the blue-eyed man settle his weight against him rather than the wall. He was much heavier and broader than Arthur’s narrow figure, which gave the doctor a bit of trouble for a moment. More shouting broke what strange sensation Alfred was feeling before he felt his legs moving under him as he was forced to keep up with the man at his side.

“You’re lucky the EML is so close. You might want to consider a diet!” Arthur chided, no bite to his quip as Vault security cleared a path for Arthur and called the medical facility. “That or watch your back! How are you supposed to join Vault security if a civilian in a crowded place can sneak up on you and get a knife that deep in your back!”

Arthur continued to grumble and jeer at the wounded man half draped on his shoulder as they exited the mess hall. But despite that, watching Alfred with a sidelong look, the worry in Arthur’s eyes was painfully apparent. That and his voice lacked any sort of malice. He’d spoken low, almost in a whisper, inwardly anxious to know if he would be able to fully heal the younger. He had no idea the full extent of the damage yet, and it made his heart race.

Bright lights slowly grew nearer as they headed to what Alfred assumed was the EML. It brought some clarity to his dizzying world as he found himself understanding what the man next to him had been saying.

“H-hey now, Arthur. Don’t go dissin’ my skills. I had ‘im. This just slowed me down a bit.” He motioned vaguely to the knife that was still in his back as he smiled, or at least what he hoped was a comforting smile. 

Arthur rolled his eyes; secretly glad Alfred was still talking, even if it was mostly nonsense. He blamed it on the loss of the blood and delirium caused by the pain.

“Alfred, you have a knife in your back. I think it’s done more than slow you down. As much as I’m sure you’d like to believe it, you’re not invincible.” Just don’t do anything so foolish again. Do you hear me, Alfred Jones? Think before you rush in and get stabbed!”

The way the man’s tone had sounded made Alfred wonder vaguely if the doctor was worried. It couldn’t have been that bad. Alfred had been through a number of scrapes before, none that had landed him in the EML at least, (of course he had had Matthew fix him up then; they didn’t have the caps to cover stitches for the random knifings he took from going down to the Depths of the Vault. Matthew only knew a little about medicine from a few books he had found, so it had left Alfred fairly scarred, but he had given as much as he took. Their survival since they lost their parents had depended largely on Alfred).

The doctor sighed in relief as they crossed the familiar threshold into the EML. The even brighter lights forced Alfred to wince. He really was in the EML, and fear was beginning to set in now. He hadn’t been on the clock during the scuffle; he would have to pay for anything the doctor did with Alfred’s own caps. And while the clean white walls were genuine comfort for the doctor, but Alfred just seemed to get more and more nervous with every step. Arthur was quick to notice the slight falter in his stride and the film of sweat collecting at his hairline. Even his usual steady blue eyes darted about with jittery anxiety. Apprehension was beginning to set in even more as Alfred noticed nurses coming towards the two of them to offer assistance. That’s when he began to struggle.

Arthur put a steadying hand on the younger’s chest when he tried to move away.

“Just stay calm, Alfred,” he ordered, authority slipping into his level tone.

“Wo-woah, wait, doc, I’m alright! It doesn’t hurt that bad anymore!” His body still felt heavy, but the need to get away and find Matthew was beginning to overpower any weakness he was feeling. He struggled in Arthur’s grip. ”I just need to see Mattie. I’ll be fine, you don’t need to do anythin’!”

The emerald-eyed doctor was surprised to say the least when the other blond actually started to become difficult to keep a hold of. For the amount of blood lost, Alfred’s fear-driven strength was impressive.

“Alfred, calm down! Stop!” Arthur’s voice rose as he glanced to the nurses for help, barely able to keep the taller in his grip. Both moved around Alfred, getting a hold of his arms and trying to corral him towards the room they’d prepped. But the blue-eyed man seemed to have plenty of strength left in him, and Arthur had to try to reason with him.

“You’re going to make your wound worse! Don’t be ridiculous; we’re trying to help you!” When another nurse arrived, hearing the commotion, the emerald-eyed doctor barked for her to open the doors to the auto-doc so the machine could restrain Alfred, since the other nurses were clearly having problems.

“W-wait! No, doc!” Alfred’s eyes were darting about, looking for an escape as the looming auto-doc came ever closer as he was pushed towards it. He could feel his body growing weaker, but his distrust in the massive machine kept his fight or flight instincts in the foreground as he tried to dig his feet into the metal flooring.

“Please! Doc, I can’t be near that thing, please!” His eyes grew wider as he tried to pull his arms away from the nurses. His breath now coming in short gasps as he began to plead, “please, doc!” He could hear the nurse’s voices trying to soothe him but their words were useless. Nothing was processing other than getting himself away from one of the machines of the Overseer.

Something must have happened as he suddenly felt one of his arms released, a nurse having stumbled during Alfred’s struggling, and he quickly jumped on the freedom and tried to spin where he stood to run for the doors.

“Alfred, please! There’s nothing to be afraid of!” Arthur assured, making the mistake of trying of grab the taller’s flailing arms as he rushed past. Alfred’s panic-induced strength easily broke his vice and sent a nearby tray of surgical instruments flying. Arthur yelped in pain, clutching his arm where a tumbling scalpel had sliced through his coat and pale skin just above his wrist.

A crash came from the right of him. Something had fallen, but Alfred didn’t care. All he wanted was out, yet something still held onto him causing him to panic further. The nurses had managed to snag his jumper despite his wild movements. Alfred shook his head vigorously now, tears beginning to well at the corners of his eyes, fear overpowering all reason.

“Dr. Kirkland!” One of the nurses rushed to his side, but Arthur swatted her hands away. He didn’t have time to be coddled. It was just a cut. Alfred still had a knife in his back and was about to break out of the EML.

“I’m fine, just let him go.”

“But sir-”

“Just do it! All of you!”

“Doctor, he’s out of control, it isn’t sa-”

“Please! ARTHUR!” Alfred called, shaking miserably.

And Arthur could hear nothing else his assistants tried to insist on. All he could hear was the desperate plea in Alfred’s voice. It cut straight to his heart, leaving a ragged wound there that made a strange, uneasy feeling settle in his gut and left his whole chest aching. There was something about the way Alfred called his name, like he was the last anchor to Earth, that haunted Arthur. It was that need that broke Arthur’s heart, and yet he barely even knew the man, but there was no mistaking the fear in Alfred’s moistening blue eyes. Eyes that looked to Arthur for salvation from the horrid machine.

“Let him go and leave!” Arthur ordered once more. He glared his authority from beneath thick, furrowed brows. The nurses looked at him, stunned, but seeing Arthur’s stern glare, they quickly obeyed. The three of them backed away from Alfred, eyes shifting anxiously to Arthur, who still held his bleeding cut. It had soaked through his coat, leaving a dark stain in crimson. Yet all his attention was focused on the frightened man before him.

When he heard the door click shut, the nurses having followed his orders and left, the glare melted from his face. It was replaced by a small, tender smile.

“Alfred…” Arthur murmured softly, taking a step towards the frightened blond. “Hush. There’s no need to be upset. What’s all this about? Come now,” He pulled his hand away from his wound, wiping the blood on his palm off on his pants leg.

Anything and everything made Alfred jump. Every sound, movement, and breath that was held made his whole body tense. He scrunched his eyes shut as he bawled his hands into fists at his sides. Words were being said, but it wasn’t until a vague sense of being left alone washed over him and seemed to ebb away a bit of the fear.

“Easy, I’m not going to hurt you, and neither will the auto-doc.”

Arthur reached his hand out, gently touching the taller’s wrist before curling around Alfred’s fingers. The younger was trembling. Alfred seemed to find a bit of control as he felt a gentle hand take his own. Such a soft and comforting touch quickly began to ease the tension that had been held taut within him.

Alfred realized he was being spoken to past the fear. Arthur’s voice was quiet and calm, no agitation within it, nothing but warmth that invited him in. His muscles began to relax now as words of reason started to make sense to him.

“You don’t have to go in there, alright?” Arthur’s thumb rubbed slow, soothing circles against the protruding bone on the blue-eyed man’s wrist. Yelling hadn’t worked, force hadn’t worked, reason hadn’t worked, but maybe, just maybe, Arthur could appeal to all the wild emotion and fear possessing the blue-eyed man with a gentle touch.

“A-Arthur- please, it… hurts.” With his energy now spent, the pain from his wound flared up quickly to take over for the fear that was leaving his system, and he found his legs weakening beneath him. 

With a soft tone, Arthur spoke again.

“I can fix your wound. Please just let me help you, Alfred.” The emerald-eyed doctor had stepped up to him, no fear of Alfred’s brutal strength or panicking mind present. This was his one shot. If this didn’t work, there was no way Arthur would be able to restrain the taller without more drastic measures. He didn’t want to have to sedate Alfred like some kind of rabid animal, or have him hurt even worse by calling security to pin him down. He could fix this alone. Gentle words and gentler hands could soothe him. It just had to work.

Alfred reached out instinctively and grabbed hold of the nearest support as his knees began to buckle.

“A-Arthur-” The trainee rested his head in the crux of the doctor’s neck, while his hands clutched at the man’s shoulders in a pathetic attempt at keeping on his feet. Arthur could keep the machine away. He could keep him safe. It wouldn’t happen again.

“Sshhh, it’s okay, Alfred,” Arthur gently soothed, bracing as the younger slumped against him. Feeling Alfred’s warm breath hitch against his neck as he called out his name, caused another sharp, aching tug to pluck at Arthur’s heart. Alfred felt so fragile in his arms, trembling and whimpering. The cocky, well-trained security guard was gone, replaced by this broken man in his arms. And that terrified the doctor.

Alfred was losing his strength faster now. His hands clinging out of desperation to the sole source that was giving him comfort just then. It felt almost as if he were out of his own body, looking down on the scene and not understanding any of it. The fear he had felt was something he’d buried, it was all he knew about it, and he also knew his brother was the only one that held him then. This time it was different though. This time it was Arthur.

The emerald-eyed man pulled Alfred closer, tilting his head to whisper gentle encouragement against his ear as he knelt, guiding Alfred’s weakened body with him, barely able to keep his heavy body from crashing to his knees. The younger needed to be off his feet. He needed to sit, or lay down. Needed to be stitched and bandaged, but more importantly, Alfred needed to be held and soothed. There was nothing more important to Arthur at that moment than making Alfred feel safe. He wanted that cocky smile back, and that bright gleam in his eyes. The hazy cloud of fear in those cobalt irises was heart-wrenching.

“I’ve got you, Alfred. It’s okay, you’re going to be okay…” He whispered, repeating it to the blue-eyed man like a mantra as he cradled Alfred’s head against his neck. The doctor’s voice never rose above a whisper, his breath warm and his tone tender. Arthur’s fingers slowly carded down the taller’s scalp, the pads of his fingers pressing comfort to the sensitive skin. The awful pangs in his heart flared up as he listened to the younger gasping, desperate breaths. Alfred let out a heavy but rasping exhale against Arthur’s skin as the man held him. He felt himself on the ground now, his body seeming to relax more without having to continue trying to bear his weight. Steady fingers running through his hair relaxed the tension from his shoulders, as he continued to listen to that soothing voice as it dusted against his ear.

“I won’t let anything hurt you, Alfred. Hush now, you’re going to be alright, Alfred. You’re safe. I swear it.” Arthur insisted, moving his free hand to skim from the other blond’s ribs to his wounded shoulder. “But I have to fix this. You’ll die if I don’t.”

_And I’m not sure I could bear that…._

“A-Arthur, I can’t… that machine…” He winced some as Arthur’s fingers slid up his side to press lightly against the wound in his shoulder. It brought Alfred back to reality and made him realize just how much danger he was still in. Why was it so hard? He knew he needed help, but why was he so scared?

“If you can trust me, I’ll save you.”

“I-I trust _you_ , Arthur.” With what little strength he still had, Alfred pulled away from Arthur’s chest to capture those emerald eyes with his own blues, their heavy breathing mingling together from how close Alfred’s face was from Arthur’s, “ _only_ you.”

The moment Alfred’s racing heartbeat and heavy body was pulled away from Arthur’s chest was when the doctor was forced to snap back to his own reality. He blinked, only to meet eyes as blue and vast as the make-believe sky. Eyes that delved past the surface, as if granting themselves access to Arthur’s soul. He couldn’t say anyone had ever looked at him like that; it was a deep-set trust the doctor didn’t understand. And Alfred felt that those emerald eyes held his own blues with such a fierce intensity that he began to feel a sort of dependency on them. Had they moved away he thought he would fall and keep on falling. Things had escalated so quickly that Arthur wasn’t entirely sure how this rooted conviction had formed between them, but it had, and that’s what mattered. Alfred trusted him, scared as he was. And so close, he could still feel the lingering heat of his body. Alfred’s hands against him creased his bloodied coat, and his heavy breath filled the minute gap between them. It made it hard for Arthur’s usually sharp mind to function.

But internally it unnerved the blue-eyed trainee, as he had never needed anyone like this before. He had his brother for support, but it was Alfred who kept them together and pushed them forward. What was it about this doctor that had him so desperate he needed to cling to him through his fear?

_I had called for Matthew back then… but why, and what for?_ _Why am I not calling for him now_?

Frustration was beginning to course through Alfred’s veins now as his emotions ran rapid between so many extremes. He needed Matthew here. He needed explanations. It wasn’t the knife wound that had driven such fear through him. The loss of blood had weakened him greatly, but would that have lowered his defenses so much to the point he had been hysterical?

“T-thank you,” Arthur suddenly murmured, trying to clear his head and breaking the tense silence between them. Somehow overpowering his emotions, his brain kicked his tingling nerves into motion, and Arthur’s fingers curled around Alfred’s much larger hand.

A firm squeeze of his hand brought Alfred’s thoughts back to reality as he focused again on the doctor. Still so close, he hadn’t realized amidst the confusion, fear, and exhaustion, how intimately near he had leaned in for the help the doctor offered. Something besides the previous fear seemed to tug at his heart as their noses practically brushed, heady breath mingling between them as Alfred felt his head beginning to spin. His thoughts starting to wonder if it was only from blood loss.

Arthur had to force himself away. He couldn’t think about this bond that they had managed to form so quickly. With his free hand, the emerald-eyed doctor grabbed a pair of cloth-cutting scissors that had fallen during Alfred’s frantic attempt at freedom.

“I’ll be back in a moment. Just hold still, Alfred.” The shorter murmured softly, still close enough for his whispered words and ragged breath to twine between them. He squeezed the younger’s trembling hand in reassurance once more. He offered a small smile before getting to his feet, moving away just as Alfred felt himself beginning to lean closer.

As the warmth from the other man disappeared, Alfred’s eyes shot open suddenly, feeling his defenses pick up and expecting the metal arms of the auto-doc to come down around him, even though he had been kept far from the machine’s reach.

Focusing seemed more difficult than he realized as he looked for the doctor, but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds when the man’s calm demeanor was beside him again. Arthur had only grabbed a suturing needle and a length of wire that had been prepared before they’d arrived, along with a bottle of antiseptic cleanser. Kneeling down beside Alfred’s wounded side, Arthur gently tugged the ripped cloth of the jumper away from the wound. Taking the scissors in hand, he cut away from the wound. Opening up the suit allowed him to push it down and off the taller’s shoulders and gave him a clear workspace.

Alfred felt himself relax once more, his ears perking up slightly at the sound of cloth tearing before his jumper was pulled away from his skin. His bare chest and back suddenly exposed to the cool air caused him to shiver slightly as he tried to

look behind him at what was going on. After everything that had happened, the doctor was finally getting to the problem at hand, and as his hands settled against Alfred’s skin to examine the damage an unexpected chill ran through the blond. His shoulders suddenly tensed at the warm sensation of soft hands on his back.

Arthur tried not to let his hands linger too long on the swells of muscle beneath Alfred’s skin, but damn if that wasn’t beyond tempting. The light shiver that Arthur felt ripple under the pads of his fingers had his blood rushing. The blue-eyed man had a fine figure, all taught sinew and graceful muscle. The doctor only wished it wasn’t such a dire situation that he was getting to grace that taut skin.

“Emm,” the moan that escaped Alfred didn’t even register with the blue-eyed man past the pain. Arthur’s hand faltered for a moment when he realized Alfred had moaned. But the emerald-eyed doctor had a job to do, and admiring his dying patient wasn’t it. Especially not when he was watching. Wrapping his fingers around the knife handle, he met those bright blue eyes again.

“This is going to hurt,” and Arthur pulled the knife free, tossing it away with a disgusted flick of his wrist. Pain engulfed Alfred as the knife was ripped from the damaged muscle, and he doubled forward. His eyes squinted shut as his hands fisted against the cold metal flooring. Immediately, a fresh burst of blood spilled from the open wound, but the doctor braced his hand against it to stem the bleeding while he reached for the cleaner. Dousing the wound quickly, Arthur hurriedly picked up the needle, swiping it in some of the excess cleaner that dribbled down the blue-eyed man’s back before he pressed the sharp tip to Alfred’s flushed skin.

“I’m sorry about this. This entire ordeal has been unorthodox.” Arthur whispered. Arthur’s calming voice addressing the trainee again as he began to thread the wound steadied the taller. The familiar sensation of a needle tugging Alfred’s skin back together over the deep wound brought another hiss from his lips as he groaned.

He felt terrible for not having the chance to inject anesthesia into the area, but Arthur needed to get the wound closed. He needed to stop the bleeding before he could do anything else. There was no way he was getting the taller up on a table, properly cleaned and prepped on his own with Alfred’s last bit of strength seeping away with every passing second. This would have to do for now, Arthur kept trying to rationalize with each fine stitch, doing everything humanly possible to not think about the intimate moment they’d shared only a moment ago as he worked. Vaguely, Arthur even wondered if Alfred could hear his racing heart, the way it fluttered at his mind’s recollection of just a minute or so earlier.

“I-I’m sorry, ‘bout this, Arthur- ugh-!” Another groan escaped him as he tried to ignore the pain. Sweat beaded up across his body as he shook, his muscles tensed as he persisted against causing the doctor more trouble.

“Don’t apologize,” Arthur chided lightly, trying to keep his voice at that same soothing level that seemed to be lulling Alfred into a calm. He paused a moment to gently pat Alfred’s unwounded shoulder. The doctor quickly returned to his stitching though, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. He was sure his face flushed a bright red when his thought trailed back to Alfred’s moan from earlier. That wasn’t the kind of moan that came from the pain of having wire threaded through skin; that was the kind of moan that-

_Stop it, Kirkland._ He mentally scolded, tying off another stitch. He couldn’t think about things like that. Not now, at least. Alfred needed to be patched up, and quickly. Such notions were only going to slow Arthur down, or worse, botch the suturing job.

The repeated pinch and tug of his skin being stitched was not an unfamiliar feeling for the security trainee. He had endured the same pain many times over, but it was a different feeling that was catching him off guard now. One that he couldn’t fight off with his guard as weakened as it was.

Unconsciously, as he worked, the emerald-eyed doctor’s free hand rubbed along the junction of Alfred’s back and shoulder blade, smoothing down his ribs occasionally to offer a small relief from the pain when he wasn’t tying off a stitch.

Alfred’s breathing began to hitch as the doctor’s hand rubbed soothingly into his skin. The gentle touch easily distracted Alfred’s mind away from the pain. A hiss escaped his lips as he inhaled sharply as those delicate hands passed back up his side and along his ribs. The sensitive skin there sending chills through Alfred’s body and furthering the dizziness in his head. He vaguely sensed his body heating up, more so from that touch than from his previous struggle.

“Unf- God-” Alfred bent forward, resting his forehead against the cold floor as he tightened a hand into a fist alongside his face. He felt his face growing flushed and the immediate chill from the metal beneath him brought him some comfort. 

Arthur felt the blood rush to his face as well, and he couldn’t have been more grateful for that fact that Alfred pressed his forehead to the floor where he couldn’t see the doctor’s face. Just listening to the younger’s unsteady breathing and his quiet moaning was making Arthur’s collar heat up. There was no quelling the racing rhythm of his heart now. It didn’t help that he was flush against Alfred, able to feel every shiver and twitch of his muscles as he worked.

_Focus, Kirkland!_

It was as the pads of his fingers skimmed around the swell of the wounded man’s shoulder did he notice the slight change in texture. Glancing from the wound, he saw that his fingers had touched a scar. It wasn’t overly obvious, but the silvery cut across the taut skin had certainly caught his trained eye. It was slightly raised, rough and with painfully obvious signs of a bad suturing. A quick sweep of his emerald gaze over Alfred’s back, arms and shoulders revealed more of the similar scarring. Returning to his work and shifting closer to Alfred for a better angle at the wound (or so he told himself), he spoke up.

“What are those scars from?” The doctor inquired, sighing softly, breath ghosting over Alfred’s skin as he forced his racing heart to slow its intense tempo.

The relief from the icy floor didn’t last long when Arthur voiced his question after finding the scars along his arms, and eventually the rest of his torso. The sudden heat returned again when he felt the doctor’s warm breath touch his skin as he was forced to come closer.

“A-ah,” Alfred’s words faltered as he pushed past his troubled emotions, not sure of which way they were going and seemingly leaving him out of their plans. “Defense training.” He blurted out, trying to come up with an excuse off the top of his head. He wasn’t so sure the doctor would buy it, but he only hoped the man wasn’t familiar with the training VSec was put through. Dodging sharp knives was certainly not part of the course curriculum; neither was being a trainee for more than 8 years. His scars were old, so if they were all from defense training, he would have been a trainee for about that length of time. As Alfred ran over the details in his head, he began to realize he should start thinking up a damn good explanation real quick.

Alfred’s guarded response was just barely enough to pull Arthur’s thoughts away from the blue-eyed man’s bare skin and the stitching. The doctor narrowed his eyes, a hint of suspicion lacing his tone as he spoke.

“I hadn’t realized security training was so intense. But if that’s really why…” Arthur wouldn’t push it if the blue-eyed man didn’t want to elaborate. Well, he didn’t push it too far; not yet, he rationalized, hands moving back to caress his side again. His fingers danced across the younger’s flushed skin as Arthur memorized each spot that elicited a particularly strong shiver or a sweet, strained noise. Before pushing his question, he wanted to make sure Alfred was well out of harm’s way.

Alfred sucked in a sudden breath, his stomach muscles quivering as he felt the doctor’s hand move back to find its way down his side once more. He bit his lip, trying to keep back the moan that was quickly betraying his thoughts out loud. Arthur was only trying to soothe him after his ordeal. Besides, that gentle touch was certainly working in masking the original pain he had been feeling. The man was doing his job the way he was supposed to. If Alfred was getting anything else out of the man’s innocent actions then it was certainly not Arthur’s fault.

“Alfred, “ Arthur murmured the younger’s name in a voice far away, barely hiding the confusing emotion the doctor felt writhing around in his gut. Finishing off the last stitch, he drew in a deep breath to clear his head as he cut the excess wire. “Just know you can tell me if you wish. I’m not here to judge you. I want to help you.”

_I want more than that. I want to know you, every inch of you, inside and out. And damn all, I can’t tell myself I don’t anymore. Those dreams of yours, your body, your past, I want all of it._

With a shuddering exhale, Alfred attempted a response:

“You’re already helpin’ me, which is too much as is.” Alfred wasn’t sure how far he could let this go. Already the stitch job and whatever damage he had caused to the nurses and supplies he had ruined, would probably add up to a month’s pay in caps. Mattie didn’t make enough in the Greenhouse to support them and their rent. Alfred had worked hard and behind closed doors to keep the small apartment his parents had left them. If he hadn’t, Mattie and himself would be living in the Depths of the Vault with the same unfortunate people who couldn’t keep up with the Overseer’s continuously increasing demands. The same people Alfred had fought against and earned those scars the doctor had delicately been inspecting.

Just the thought of being back there, him and his brother in constant danger, made Alfred wince at the thought. His brother had always been weaker with his health as well, which required their apartment to have special air filters replaced monthly. It was one reason he had picked up a job in the greenhouse to help his lungs. Without any of that, Alfred wasn’t so sure how long Matthew could hold up.

_Too much? How can that be when I want to give you so much more?_ The doctor wondered.

It had started too suddenly for Arthur. Usually there was time to close himself off from people, but Alfred had darted into his heart like a bullet, too quick to stop, and just as damaging on his emotions as it would have been to his body. Alfred had managed to do what no one had yet done to Arthur Kirkland. And the worst part was, Arthur realized with a horrible sense of dread, was that he probably hadn’t even meant to. It was fear and need that had driven Alfred into Arthur’s arms, not like the curious affection bubbling up within the doctor. It stung. More than that. It left a stabbing pain in Arthur’s heart that made him inhale sharply at the sudden, agonizing flare.

His gentle stroking faltered for a moment.

“It’s finished.” Swallowing down the pain, Arthur shifted, his hand moving to gently card through Alfred’s hair again, giving the taller a bit of time to adjust to the tightness of his skin held shut by the wire.

Thankfully, Alfred was pulled away from that depressing line of thoughts when a squeeze at his shoulder made him turn his head slightly to acknowledge that he was listening.

“You’re finished?” Alfred made to lean up on his arm, but winced from the awkward feeling of pulling flesh, and was immediately grateful when Arthur’s hand returned to carding through his hair. Delicate fingers pressing into his scalp caused his eyes to grow heavy again as he leaned into that touch. Not wanting to move away as it lulled him to wanting to fall asleep, bringing to light just how exhausted this whole ordeal had left him.

“Can you stand?” The emerald-eyed doctor murmured after nodding, offering another gentle smile. There was no force or direction in the question; he didn’t want to hurt Alfred by rushing him. That, and he was enjoying the feel of Alfred’s hair against his fingers. He wouldn’t have minded being allotted the pleasure in the future. If there was some kind of future between them, that was.

Alfred knew he had to get up, he couldn’t stay in such an awkward and questionable position on the floor forever, regardless of how Arthur’s hands left him melting.

“Y-yeah, I can stand.” The acknowledgement was forced, as he would have much rather just stayed where he was, but he finally gave in and pushed awkwardly to his knees, a hand going to his face to rub at his eyes. Dots swam in his vision from the sudden change in angle. He brought one leg up, braced his hands on it and pushed himself to his feet. Too quick though, since vertigo quickly overtook him and caused him to stumble some before finding his footing. The room spun as he held one hand to his forehead, another outstretched in front of him in hopes of finding some stability.

Arthur was quick to move in front of him, rising with Alfred. He caught the taller by his wrist, stepping forward to offer Alfred a support to lean on. He made sure to keep his grip gentle, but still snuggly there for more than just reassurance.

Alfred was immediately thankful that the doctor was there so fast; his feet more than likely seconds from giving out on him without support. The doctor gently brushed Alfred’s hand away from his head, the pads of his fingers against his temple.

“When I asked if you could stand, I didn’t mean you had to do it on your own.” Arthur shook his head, huffing a tiny sigh. “And about what you said: don’t be ridiculous. It’s my job to help you.”

“Exactly, it’s your job.” Alfred didn’t mean for it to come out harshly, but he quickly regretted his words. It sounded more like he was demanding Arthur to do his job, which he was, but he had meant it more that Arthur was being forced because of his profession to help the careless trainee. “Ah- sorry, I meant to say ‘thanks’ for your help.”

Arthur’s hand skimmed down, tracing Alfred’s quivering jaw down to his neck, all the way back to his scarred arms. The soft caress along his neck and to his shoulder left him shivering again, and now that he was standing, he was painfully aware of just how exposed he was with his jumper hanging loosely at his belt, and the only thing from his waist up was his dog tags that still hung around his neck. Not that there were any women around, but his flushed skin made him worry the doctor would think something else was going on with him. He only hoped the man would simply assume a fever.

Looking into Alfred’s hazy eyes, clouded by pain, exhaustion, and something else Arthur tried not to think too hard about couldn’t fool his sharp mind. Those moans and Alfred’s flushed skin made it very clear, confirming Arthur’s secret suspicions.

“And you’re sure these are from training?” Arthur mumbled, tracing the thin, jagged lines. They looked like knife wounds, slashes and stabs, mangled further by crude suturing. As much as it unnerved Arthur to think about such things, he knew it was just to distract his longing heart.

“Here,” Arthur suddenly directed, nudging Alfred towards a table that hadn’t been overturned in the earlier scuffling. “Sit, you need to be off your feet. And you need blood. I’m amazed you’re still awake.” Arthur chuckled uneasily, patting the blue-eyed man’s thigh before grabbing the blood bags and IV equipment that had been left in the room.

As he was guided to a table, Alfred continued to shun away from the prodding question. Arthur was a doctor: a highly prized member of the Vault and one who was directly connected with the Overseer and the other higher ups. Any sort of hint that he frequented the Depths could point fingers at Alfred. Reports had been posted across all pipboys to be on the lookout for suspicious activities for some time. Not that there wasn’t a number of suspicious characters already in the Depths, but Alfred had other skills that allowed him access to reach areas blocked off to the general public. Alfred had learned secrets already hidden away down there by the Overseer, and if Arthur learned that, things could turn ugly.

“Yeah, training… I wasn’t very good.” He winced as he lifted himself onto the table, sitting at the edge and allowing his feet to dangle. He had to be more on point now if the doctor’s questions grew to be more drilling. Running was an option, and Matthew already knew escape plans if the need came to it. They wouldn’t be able to get to the surface, but he knew the Vault’s layout well enough to get by.

But as Arthur walked back to Alfred, the doctor couldn’t bring himself to think of the blood in his hands, or acting professional, or anything sane for that reason. He could only think of Alfred; his mind was set on the younger’s toned body, skin flushed, muscles quivering, on his strange fear of the auto-doc, how he’d pleaded for Arthur and clung to him; on his scars, the guarded response and the obvious attempt to avoid directly answering Arthur. There was such an intense burn in the emerald-eyed doctor’s mind, all of it focused on Alfred: the strange, handsome man that had somehow managed to work Arthur up into a frenzy of conflicting emotions that left his heart shuddering, chest aching.

Biting his lip, Arthur stepped up to him, setting his tools aside and clicking his tongue to catch Alfred’s attention.

“You still trust me, correct?”

Alfred watched as the doctor meticulously prepared his tools. The bag of blood now resting on a machine that kept it constantly rocking back and forth, much like a seesaw, in order to keep the cells from coagulating. He found himself almost mesmerized by the motion of the dark red liquid, nearly missing the final question and without realizing his answer, he uttered,

“I do.”

“Then stop lying to me.” Arthur said without looking up. He hadn’t minded any harsh words, knowing Alfred hadn’t meant a single one as a verbal lash. He was hurt and tired, a sharp tongue was just a natural response. Arthur could deal with that, no problem. It was the fact that Alfred kept trying to skirt around him, kept lying through his teeth, refused to let Arthur in, that upset the emerald-eyed doctor. Alfred had no right to close off from him, as far as Arthur was concerned. He’d bolted into Arthur’s heart, unconsciously hurt him in a way Arthur didn’t even understand, and left him aching and wanting. And that wasn’t fair.

The sudden outburst had caused Alfred to shy away, his eyes squinting as if expecting a blow that he knew he couldn’t protect very well against in his state. When it didn’t come though, he slowly opened his eyes, now really looking at the doctor before him. Before, Arthur seemed more like just another object in the room. Not a person there to help him, listen to him, and heal him, but something he simply needed for a short period of time. Now, really looking at the man made Alfred tense in his seat.

“Please,” Arthur nearly closed the gap between them, settling his hands on Alfred’s bad shoulder. His gentle fingers pressed against tense muscle, searching for any signs of other damage the knife and the scuffle could have caused. “I can fix your wounds.”

Arthur sighed, glancing sidelong to vaguely meet Alfred’s hazy eyes.

“All of them.” Arthur left the words hanging in the air, unsure if Alfred would understand his meaning as he continued to feel his way around the younger’s wound.

_But that would mean you would have to trust me. Really trust me. I need more than just your word._

There was something different about Arthur that hadn’t entirely been there during their morning in the training center. Something had changed and Alfred wasn’t sure what it could be. He felt himself growing weary though, even as Arthur moved closer to his side, his hands pressing into that tense muscle, inciting a hiss from the trainee’s lips whenever he pressed on a sore spot as the doctor checked for further injury. His actions were caring and that of wanting to help, but Alfred felt himself getting defensive. He had to protect himself and Matthew. He had seen the Overseer use similar tricks and schemes. Brainwashing people into doing what he wanted all with ‘for the good of the Vault’ propaganda. Arthur could be one of those in that circle, and this was his way of getting information. He couldn’t be persuaded, even with those intense green eyes as they gazed, almost longingly, into Alfred’s own. Even as his heart fluttered in his chest, and a desire tried to grow in wanting to believe the man’s words… he couldn’t.

“I-It’s complicated,” he struggled to get out, suddenly feeling like he couldn’t look into those eyes anymore, his hands now fussing together in his lap as he searched for a way out. ”And it’s really nothin’ you need to worry about. I’m fine.” Finding some strength, he turned his gaze back, shining a smile as best he could towards the doctor, through the weakness that hung heavy on his body and heart. Anything to try to get across to the man that he was a survivor on his own. He appreciated it nonetheless, but there was nothing the doctor could do for him.

Arthur stepped back, feeling his blood chill. It didn’t take a genius to see how fake that smile was. There was nothing comforting in it; it was only a defensive measure.

Alfred was pushing him away.

“You don’t trust me. You don’t even want to trust me.” Arthur practically accused, his voice low, level, even; it was perfectly cold. Withdraw, put up a wall, close off his heart, forget he ever hoped. That would have been the best solution; one Arthur employed plenty of times. Only there was a wedge keeping the gates from closing off his heart. And that wedge happened to be an insufferable, beautiful, completely oblivious young man named Alfred F. Jones.

But it wasn’t that easy. He didn’t want to retreat back into himself. Those fleeting moments he’d allowed his heart a brief release in Alfred had been something Arthur never wanted to forget. He didn’t want to erase the feel of his skin, the drumming of his heart, the heat of his breath. He didn’t want to forget the unfathomable depths in Alfred’s eyes or how they’d looked to him for salvation in his personal fear-induced Hell. Arthur didn’t want to forget being needed more than just physically.

And yet he had to pretend he did.

“But that’s fine.”

_I don’t mind having my emotions toyed with._

“I understand.”

_But I really don’t._

“If you don’t want me to know, then I’ll respect that.”

_Because I have to. But I’d do anything to know. I do anything to know everything about you._

“However, that doesn’t mean I’ll accept a lie in return.”

_You don’t have to lie. I would never judge you._

“Please. If there’s anything true in what you’ve said, tell me. If not, then at least give me the courtesy of admitting it. We can at least have a mutual respect, can’t we?”

_I want so much more than that._

“That’s all I ask of you, Jones.”

_Because I can’t ask you for what I really want…_

Alfred’s lips curled back in a snarl at the emerald-eyed blond’s accusations.

“I trusted you to stitch me up, without usin’ that fuckin’ machine! What

more do you want?” Alfred winced as his yelling backfired against himself, his

head now pounding along with his racing heart. He was already losing the

man he thought might help him with Gilbert gone, and now the doctor seemed

to want to rid himself of Alfred entirely.

“What more do I want?” Arthur repeated mockingly, slamming the gates shut. How stupid. How utterly, foolishly, ridiculously stupid. Of course it was too good to be true. It always had been. And he should have seen it coming. “I want you to stop lying!”

“It wasn’t a lie; there really isn’t anything for you to worry about! Why

do you need to know my business anyways? So I have a few scars. So what?

Why are you pressing me for information?”

“Oh, pressing you for information, am I? Who do you think I am, Jones? Some sort of persecutor? I hadn’t realized concerning myself with you was a capital offense!” Arthur snorted.

“My mistake…” the emerald-eyed blond muttered aloud, inhaled, and calmed his flighty mind. He turned his back to Alfred; he redirected his glare at the familiar auto-doc machine, the very same thing that had driven Alfred into the emerald-eyed doctor’s arms.

It was a stupid move, but Alfred made himself slide off the table. The anger being directed at the trainee was making him reckless and that returning need to run was beginning to shine through. The moment his feet hit the floor, however, was when he felt himself practically collapse, the room around him going from light to dark. Pins and needles coursed through his legs as he struggled to hold onto the table for support.

_Shit, this isn’t gettin’ any better._

“Please, just let me go see my brother.” Alfred winced as he tried to calm down. His emotions were everywhere, and not one seemed to lead him in the right direction. In these situations it was always Matthew’s voice of reason that pulled him out of this drowning sea he was currently in. It was Matthew who had pulled Alfred out back then. From what, he could never remember, but his twin had never let him down, and would help him through the feelings he couldn’t make sense of in his head.

_I can trust Matthew with anything. This man hasn’t earned that trust, yet. I want him to, but I can’t be sure yet until I know exactly who he is._

“I don’t know you, Arthur, and you don’t know me. Why ask for something like trust when I haven’t given you a reason to trust me first.”

The doctor scoffed, more annoyed with himself than with Alfred.

“Pardon, but I’m done indulging your childish fears. You’d be perfectly stitched, and out of my life if I’d just acted professional from the start. But no, I try to comfort a patient and look where it gets me.” He swept his arm out, still not looking at Alfred, and motioned to the disaster all around. Broken glass, scattered tools and blood splattered the room, leaving a trail of destruction that lead from the door to the auto-doc. He couldn’t help but wince as the movement ripped his cut open. Clutching his bleeding wrist to his chest, Arthur continued on, a cold mask across his visage. “So I must apologize for making you the exception. I assure you, it won’t happen again. I can’t release you to your brother; it would be negligence to let you leave in your condition. I think I’ve learned my lesson in dealing with you.”

_It only took getting my heart impaled._

A new pain Alfred would never have expected flared up within him as he watched the doctor’s back. The anger in the other’s voice forced Alfred’s heart to race, his chest to constrict painfully, and his head to spin. This wasn’t a pain associated with his injury, or his weakened state. He had truly hurt this man on a different level than Alfred would have ever thought, in turn hurting Alfred himself.

_The fuck am I doing?_

“A-Arthur,” his voice was even shakier than earlier, and he bit his lip at how weak he was, and now it was more than just physical. He fisted his hands as he searched for words until his eyes suddenly landed on an obvious slice along Arthur’s wrist as the man moved. His coat having already been bloody, now re-staining further from where the thin yet lengthy sliver began to spill red once again. ”You’re hurt.” He had planned on focusing on something different, but the overwhelming feeling of guilt had strung him up now, and there was no way he was getting away from this.

The emerald-eyed doctor felt his steely resolve falter for a moment. He had heard Alfred call his name, sending a piercing jab at the walls around his heart that nearly buckled them.

“I-it’s nothing.” Arthur countered, holding his hand over the slight wound. He didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to admit that the concern in Alfred’s voice hurt more than anything. But to open up again, only to have his emotions maimed a second time, just for the narrow sliver of hope Alfred might actually care? It would have been the biggest mistake. Arthur already felt like his insides were torn to shreds; he couldn’t take another brutal attack on them.

“You’re hurt because of me, and I’m suppose to be the one protecting you.” Alfred meant the statement as a generalization. He was training to be a security officer, and Arthur was a citizen of the Vault that needed his protection, yet something in his own words twisted inside himself and the thought of his statement truly being about Arthur made him begin to question.

_I need to protect everyone, but why do I have this urge to protect this man in particular. Why is this hurting me so much? Seeing him so upset… I don’t know what I should do._

The shorter glanced over his shoulder when he heard Alfred once more, watching him nearly collapse again. The emerald-eyed doctor barely managed to fight back the urge to rush to Alfred and help him. Instead he calmly pivoted on his heel and strode over to Alfred, viridian eyes trained on the younger.

_You hurt me more than physically, Alfred. But you can’t protect me from my own stupid emotions…._

“And you want to know why I pressed the issue?” He bit rhetorically, watching Alfred struggle for a moment before he tucked against the blue-eyed man, supporting his weight. “It’s because I’m not stupid. I’m a doctor, Jones. I know a bad suture job when I see one carved into your skin. No certified doctor would butcher you like that. So either you did it yourself, or someone did it for you. Either way, it means you were probably doing something you weren’t supposed and got hurt.”

_And I worried. I worried about you._

“And didn’t I tell you to stay off your feet? You’re going to kill yourself.” Arthur grumbled against the younger’s chest, using his leverage to push Alfred back onto the bed. He forced himself to ignore the warmth that radiated off of the blue-eyed man, the feel of his muscles beneath his hands as he set Alfred down.

Before Alfred could figure out what to say, Arthur was at his side again, this time colder than before as he helped lift him back onto the table. Alfred’s face flushed at how stupid he was being in continually jeopardizing his health, but the amount of pain he seemed to unknowingly be putting on the doctor had him wanting out of that place even faster.

Arthur sighed, resigning himself.

“I suppose you’re right. I don’t know you, perhaps I might have wanted to.” Arthur chose his dismissal carefully.

Slipping himself out from under Alfred’s arm, the doctor turned away, about to walk to the small phone mounted on the wall to page for some assistants.

But as Arthur continued to point out Alfred’s ignorance and foolishness, the doctor’s sudden withdrawal from his side as Alfred was securely lying on the hard bed, made the trainee suddenly reach out instinctively. It was too late to stop it, as his hand clasped around the hem of the man’s white lab coat. Glancing down, he watched Alfred’s hand clutch at him, the knuckles white as he clung to. Arthur swore the walls were about to crumble.

But Alfred didn’t let go when the doctor looked back. He simply lay there, clutching, and not wanting to release his grip. Like a child clinging to its parent from leaving, but Alfred hadn’t meant for this to get out of hand. 

Without moving out of Alfred’s reach, he paged for the assistants he had dismissed earlier to return. He needed to be away from the blue-eyed man. Everything had spun out of control and Arthur had no idea how.

Releasing the pager button, he felt the rift in his heart tear wider and wider with each passing second. The simple act of clinging to his coat had left Arthur more conflicted than ever. What did Alfred want? To push him away, or open up? But for as much as the emerald-eyed blond wanted to know, logic was winning over. Trying to peel Alfred away with great care was likely the best idea.

“I dragged you here, and held you, and you looked at me like I was more than just a machine here to patch your wounds or a god with all the answers as to why you are dying. It’s been a long time since anyone’s done that. I thought maybe you were worth trusting, but if all you can give me is half-truths and defensive responses to simple questions, then clearly I was wrong. There. Are you happy now?”

_I won’t be played a fool. For once I thought to care. It’s a mistake I won’t repeat._

Alfred didn’t even know what he had done. Sure, he had remained guarded in his responses but he had to, and he still needed to be as he wet his lips with his tongue, trying to find words to calm the doctor’s rage if only by a little. He gave a small appeal, hoping to quell Arthur.

“You’re right. The stitchin’ was by an amateur, because I couldn’t seek professional help due to not bein’ able to afford it.” He clutched his eyes shut. “I’m not even sure I’ll be able to afford what you’ve done for me today, let alone pay for all the damage I caused in the process.” He shook his head from where he lay on the bed, annoyed at himself now for having grown so emotional. 

”I have done things in my life I’m not proud of, but…” everything in Alfred was screaming at him to shut up. If he slipped then Matthew would be going down with him. He couldn’t do that to his brother. If Arthur was to bring Alfred in under conspiracy against the Overseer, then it should only be Alfred getting the noose. He would do as he promised. He would always do as he promised. “…but, know that I have my reasons for being cautious. I never meant it out of spite against you.” He finally opened his eyes, looking up at the doctor who appeared just as disheveled as Alfred must have been. What this man had done for him awarded more than what Alfred had given him, but he didn’t have anything more he could give.

Curiosity sparked under Arthur’s skin and the doctor leaned his hip against the bed, looking down at the younger, eyes shimmering with whirling emotions all over again. Even if the wall had not come down, the entire ordeal was still rattling the emerald-eyed doctor. It made it hard to follow through with his logical resolve.

_But why do you have to be cautious? Tell me. Tell me because I don’t care what you’ve done. I just want to know, need it really. You’re so strange, so different from me. But that doesn’t mean I would begrudge you for anything…_

With a heavy sigh, Alfred finally let his hand fall away from the doctor’s coat to rest back against his side. A shuddered intake of breath and he looked away, no longer having the strength to see into those deep viridian eyes. He was tired, and he didn’t know what to do.

“I’m sorry.”

Arthur forced himself to steel his nerves and simply listened to the younger. He couldn’t help it when his hand instinctively went for Alfred’s when the other blond released him. Just as his fingers brushed Alfred’s he flinched, jerking his hand back to his side. No. He wouldn’t get close again. He’d stay behind the wall to safeguard his heart. The pain flaring back up in his chest was excruciating, but Arthur bore it without complaint.

“You’re not paying for any of this. I’ll make sure of that.” Arthur murmured, seeing that Alfred was avoiding his eyes, he didn’t try to force eye contact. Thinking, he just kept thinking, working through the information: the pitch of Alfred’s voice, what he could have meant by “I have done things in my life I’m not proud of”, the way he said it, how he didn’t look at Arthur as he spoke.

“No,” Arthur leaned forward, one hand delicately cupping the blue-eyed man’s cheek. Will broken, the doctor could care nothing for the way his mind screamed at him to stop being a love-struck fool. The taller’s silence was unnerving, Arthur had discovered. He didn’t know what he was doing right now, too conflicted to care about it. All that mattered was setting things right. Alfred was trying, and if it wasn’t for Arthur’s enduring defenses over the years, he surely would have crumbled. “I… I-”

The doors to the room suddenly opened, and instantly Arthur stepped back from the bed, apathy replacing any sign of emotional exposure that had been there a moment ago. He cleared his throat, clasping his hands behind his back and straightening out his shoulders as the nurses from earlier arrived.

“My god…!” One exclaimed, startled by the wreckage that was the once a pristine room.

“Dr. Kirkland, what ha-”

“Make sure everything is cleaned up. He’s already been stitched, but he needs to stay off his feet,” and he motioned to Alfred for emphasis. “We’re keeping him overnight. Call his brother to inform him he may take him home tomorrow morning. Be sure to let him know that the bills will be sent to me and I will take care of the damages.”

“But sir, the room is destroyed! How are you going to pay for-”

“I make a much higher salary than I think you realize.” He retorted quickly, cold as ice. “Besides, all of this was my fault. It would be wrong to have a patient pay for my mistake.”

“Doct-”

“See to it.” He dismissed, stuffing his hands in his pocket, ignoring the way it made his cut bleed even more. He was at the threshold when he glanced back one last time at Alfred, the walls cracking, but he managed to stay protected behind them before vanishing down the hall.


End file.
